Two months later

Iris

I waved goodbye to Dr. Jones and closed the door behind me. Counseling sessions weren't easy, and today had been no exception. Especially with Paul's trial looming in the near future. It was bad enough that I had to see him every time I closed my eyes, but now I had to actually sit in the same room as him. Bile bubbled up my throat, and I took several deep breaths to calm myself.

"Iris?"

Garrett's voice washed over me like a balm, and I opened my eyes slowly, praying this wasn't some form of maladaptive daydreaming. It wouldn't be the first time in the months since the attack that my brain had conjured him during moments of stress. I blinked twice as he came into focus. Nope. Still there.

His lips twitched into a half smile that didn't reach his eyes. The smile fell when I didn't move, and his gaze slid to the nameplate on the door. "Are you okay?"

He was really here. All six feet plus of him dressed in a charcoal gray suit with his curly hair slicked back and black-rimmed glasses sitting on his nose. My fantasies had nothing on reality, and I worked moisture back into mouth as I nodded.

"I'm fine. I was just...um...visiting Dr. Jones." There was no point in lying. Not to him. That was a bridge I would never cross again.

Hands in his pockets, he rocked back slightly on his heels. Understanding and sympathy replaced the concern in his expression. "Good. I'm glad you're talking to someone."

I would've talked to you.

That's what I wanted to say. How many times had I picked up the phone to call him since coming home from the hospital, only to stop myself from pressing call. We had confessed our love that night only for him to tell me the next day that he needed space and time. I'd given it to him and then given up hope when days turned to weeks and then to months. Turned out a broken heart and fear didn't make for a very healthy sleeping schedule, which is how I ended up scheduling visits with a counselor.

Instead, I said, "What are you doing here?"

Hooking his finger over his shoulder, he pointed to an office across the hall. "Anger management with Dr. Carol."

"Oh." I shifted my purse on my shoulder. "Good. I'm glad you're talking to someone, too. Well, I guess I should go."

"Iris, wait—"

I made it outside before the first tear fell, and I didn't stop when I heard his footsteps behind me. When I reached a crosswalk, I mashed the pedestrian button repeatedly, willing the light to change so I could escape, but I wasn't that lucky. Garrett grabbed my hand and pulled me away.

"Hey." His voice was soft and his touch softer as he brushed a tear off my cheek. "Don't cry."

Slapping his hand away, I stepped back. Something inside of me snapped. I'd spent all this time feeling guilty for my lies, but if he really loved me, he wouldn't have treated me like this.

"You don't get to do that."

"Are you angry at me?"

"Yes," I hissed.

His eyes widened. "Care to explain what I've done?"

"Y-y-you..." My mouth opened and closed. Was he really that dense? "It doesn't matter. None of it matters anymore."

Garrett paled. "Iris. Please. I don't know why you're upset."

"I'm upset because you told me you loved me and then you disappeared!"

People passing by us jumped when I shouted. Their voices dropped to whispers and their eyes lingered as they walked by. If I didn't have a public persona to worry about, I might have flipped them the bird or asked them what they were looking at. It was definitely something Ivy would do, but these days, I was discovering my sister and I were more alike than I thought.

"I told you I needed time to think."

"Fine. That's a week. Tops. After that, you could've at least had the decency to call me and tell me it wasn't going to work. Instead, I've been stuck in this in-between place. I finally accepted you didn't want me, and then you have the audacity to be kind to me when you see me."

He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to the side of a small cafe, careful to keep us in the sunshine and out of the alley shadows. Damn it. Why did he have to be thoughtful like that?

"Is that all?"

"Is that all? Is that all!"

I turned to storm away, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back to him. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should've at least contacted you and told you I was still processing things."

His apology deflated my anger, but not my hurt. "Why didn't you?"

"Because I didn't have an answer, and I didn't want to hurt you more by not having it."

"And now?" Hope bloomed bright and then fizzled out when he hesitated. "You know what? Don't. Here."

I dug into my purse and pulled out an ARC of my next novel. It was a special copy I'd had printed just for him, and I'd been carrying it around for a month. He grunted when I slammed it into his chest.

"Iris, please let me finish."

"That's for you. Goodbye, Garrett," I said before running away. If he still didn't understand what he meant to me when he read my book, then nothing I had to say would ever convince him.